


Jean

by dan_arrow



Series: Daily Lives of the 104th [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, after the other things, there's fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dan_arrow/pseuds/dan_arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean turns into a titan and fun things happen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jean

**Author's Note:**

> There's blood. Idk you can probably handle it. The biggest thing is the owner of said blood.

Jean’s skin felt like it was tearing. His muscles expanded in a blistering tug. Bones suddenly enlarged. Every part of Jean’s body simultaneously tore, pushed, and stretched. Jean felt as if his body were set aflame as a painful heat ruptured his growing skin. Around him was a heavy fog that smelled like dank sweat. He heard the low whistle of soldiers shooting through the air on maneuver gear. The city around Jean suddenly turned small as his height persisted in increasing.

            He looked down at the roof of a building. A gruesome headache thudded against Jean’s forehead. His body throbbed from his rapid growth. Soldiers decked in green cloaks flew around him. Jean stumbled to gain balance. He couldn’t understand what was happening.

            A set of hooks pierced Jean’s new skin.

            Jean quickly traced a pair of wires to a soldier. The soldier’s face was unfamiliar. Everything around Jean was unrecognizable. He had no idea where he was or why he was so large. Frustration overrode his logic. What was he doing? He felt a thundering growl escape his oversized mouth.

            Something wild spurred ferocity in Jean’s nerves, and he swung an arm at the approaching soldier. He grasped his victim with tightening fingers. The soldier cried out, glistening tears pouring out of his eyes as he pleaded for mercy. Blood spewed out of the young soldier’s mouth. The sight of the soldier’s agony stirred a haunting sense of satisfaction in Jean. The soldier’s eyes prayed for a salvation. But the city around him shadowed to darkness as an excruciating pain swallowed him whole.

            Jean didn’t realize what he had done until his wide range of teeth clamped shut and an uncomfortable bump slid down his throat.

            He bolted through the streets of the city. Buildings were completely demolished. Deceased soldiers littered the ground. The sun was shining bright on the destruction that ravaged the city.

            More soldiers grappled on to Jean’s shoulders, but he was prepared to fend them off. Jean flexed his body to face the oncoming attackers. It was survival. Jean swatted the tiny soldiers away, their bodies unceremoniously slamming against a nearby building. A morbid grin spread across Jean’s face. His teeth showed in crooked rows that ran through the length of his jaw line.

            Another soldier dressed in green swept into Jean’s line of vision. Jean readied his stance and prepared to slaughter. The soldier’s dark hair flew backwards as he aimed to make an attack. From Jean’s height, he could see a messy line of freckles blot the young soldier’s cheeks. The soldier swung himself through the air, reluctant bravery reflecting in his bright eyes. Jean was suddenly awestruck and completely frozen. The soldier held a firm grip on his swords. A sense of trauma blackened Jean’s sight. The soldier swiveled his body, muscled strained and eyes locked on his target.  _Marco?_

            Before Marco could slash the nape of Jean’s neck, he was suddenly caught in a heavy lock of fingers. He wiggled in Jean’s grasp, desperation flooded into his gut.

            Jean trapped Marco in an impossible hold. He stared the aghast soldier with horrified recognition.

            Marco screamed and clawed for life. He couldn't die now. Tears pooled in his eyes. 

            With a curled fist around Marco’s body, Jean gazed at him. He saw how Marco squirmed with urgency. Fear undermined all other thoughts and emotions. Marco was driven by a hope to remain alive.

            But Jean only squeezed his fingers closer together. A frantic demon infested Jean’s soul, isolating his sentiment in an unreachable place in his mind. Jean watched as Marco’s eyes widened with pain. Misery and sorrow laced the futile screams that Marco belted.

            Jean didn’t know what type of virus invaded his body to cause him to crave so much murder. The innocent person struggling in his fist desperately pleaded for survival. The soldier had not done anything wrong. However the sight of Marco’s blood brought Jean so much content and pleasure. It was glorious to have so much control. Jean stretched his mouth open. Marco saw an abyss of saliva and red inner body tissue. As Marco slowly met darkness, he whispered, “Jean.”

           

            “Jean.”

            “…”

            “Dude, get up.”

            Jean bolted upright and Marco felt a sweaty hand grab his face. Jean’s pupils were wide and insane. Flashes of metallic blood and dead bodies crowded Jean’s memory.

            Marco slid into bed next to Jean, who still had a manic grip on Marco’s face.

            “You must have been having one hell of a crazy dream,” Marco laughed. “It’s 10 AM and you missed breakfast and morning training.” Marco removed Jean’s hand and held it gently in his own. “It was a nightmare, right?”

            Jean didn’t process Marco’s words. He could barely look at his comrade in the eyes. Just a few moments ago, Jean had murdered him.

            Marco wrapped a pair of tender arms around Jean’s neck. He could feel the cool remnants of sweat on the nape of Jean’s neck. He leaned his forehead against Jean’s and slowly closed his concerned eyes. 

            "It was bad," Marco began, "wasn't it?" He pressed closer into Jean, enjoying the feel of the other boy's skin. "Again. It’s always a nightmare."

            Jean responded by falling into Marco’s embrace and shut his own panic shaken eyes. Warm heat radiated between them. 

            “I’m so sorry.” Jean said, in the softest voice. He could still see himself grasping Marco’s squirming body, relishing the despair he was inflicting. Guilt stung his chest. As Marco displayed nothing but support and encouragement, Jean dreamt of turning into a titan and devouring him. Jean would never do anything to hurt Marco.

            Marco barely heard the remark, but he heard it nonetheless. He scooted even closer to Jean, closing what little gap they had between themselves. Marco ran a hand through Jean’s hair, lightly rubbing the distressed soldier’s scalp. Although Marco didn’t know exactly what happened, he understood that something was definitely troubling Jean. He wasn’t planning on prying for more information. The terrified expression of anxiety that covered Jean’s face was enough the tell Marco that he did not want to be reminded of his nightmare.

            Jean smoothed his hand down Marco’s back, he was comforted by its familiar bumps where bone and muscle protruded. The feeling of a whole person relieved Jean’s pain. Marco was there. Marco, the freckled boy whom Jean cared so deeply for, was not dead. Marco was alive and Jean felt satisfying content as he gently pushed Marco down from their sitting position so they’d both be laying comfortably next to each other. A smile spread across Jeans face as he dug his face into the crook of Marco’s shoulder, cherishing the familiar smell of Marco’s skin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably end up adding chapters to this which will consist of more jeanmarco.


End file.
